Wild Growth
by StormyRebel
Summary: She could sense a shift in the world, as could the rest of her newly awakened race. It was growing darker. The only difference between her and the other Sylvari was that she couldn't sit by and do nothing. A LotR fanfic with the addition of the Sylvari race. No prior knowledge of the Sylvari is needed. 10th walker story, centers around an OC. Possibly Legolas/OC later on.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings or people from Lord of the Rings. Neither do I own any of the settings from Guild Wars 2, neither do I own a better part of the people, only a few OC's.**

_**Wild Growth**_

**Author's Note:** Lately I have been reading some Lord of the Rings fanfiction and have been rather engrossed in them – both crossovers and not. And as it happens when I read fanfictions of a new universe, I get rather inspired. This is what was born this time; Lord of the Rings with an extra race – the Sylvari.

Now, some may say that this should be categorized as a crossover, but I don't completely agree by that. This story takes place in Lord of the Rings universe – and only in the Lord of the Rings universe. The only difference is that the Sylvari race is added, much in the same way they were added to the Guild Wars universe (you will see that if you read the prologue).

I will try my best to write the story, so you can read without having any prior knowledge of the Sylvari or the Guild Wars universe. If you know about the Sylvari in Guild Wars 2, you will surely recognize more than a few names – I will not change any – and they will have much of the same personality. But for the sake of the story I will not have any of them corrupt, or have any 'Nightmare Court'. There is not evil in the Lord of the Rings with Mordor and Isengard. Another change you will see is that while the Sylvari still are a curious about the world as they are in the Guild Wars universe, very few of them have ventured out of their forest because of the growing evil in the world. Thus, only rumors of the Sylvari race are heard in Middle-earth, and only by those who are listening.

In this story we will follow a female Sylvari named Ceres as she as one of the first of her race ventures out into the world. The reasons why she does that will be revealed in chapter 1. She will eventually join the fellowship as a 10th walker, and there will possibly be romance between her and Legolas. I say _possibly_, because that isn't set in stone – you, my future reader, will also have a word in that.

Without further ado, I present to you: Wild Growth, a lotr fanfiction.

**Prologue**

* * *

Ceres had heard the story of their origin many times from the Earth Shakers, the tall caretakers of their Friends. The first time she heard it, it had been from the eldest of the Earth Shakers, Fangorn, from whom the forest which they dwelled had gotten its name. 'Fangorn Forest', she had learned that the other races of the land called it – but to her, and any other Sylvari, it was simply called 'home'.

Ceres of course knew that all of her race – 'Sylvari', the Earth Shakers had named them – emerged from Mother, the largest tree in Fangorn Forest. They grew in their pods which hung high up in Mother's branches, and were lowered to the ground once they were ready to emerge. Ceres also knew that they were aware for some time before they emerged from their pods, in a world which the Firstborns – the first of their race whom had emerged from Mother – called the Dream of Dreams, which contained knowledge and experiences from the Sylvari who had already emerged. Though they left the Dream of Dreams, it would forever be a part of them, and connect them to all other Sylvari.

It had been six days after she had emerged from her pod that Fangorn had told the story. It was a story he had told many times; it was only him who had the privilege to tell it to the youngest of Sylvari, for it had also been him who had told the story to the oldest of the Sylvari, too. As he had arrived, the earth shaking as he walked – thus why the Sylvari called his race Earth Shakers – Sylvari had emerged from the undergrowth and branches of the forest to hear him tell their favorite story. Ceres had watched him with wide eyes as he walked to the same spot he had told the Firstborn the story, and sat down.

Fangorn had told with his deep rumbling voice, which creaked and groaned as he talked,

"_Tis' was a great many seasons ago – more than twenty times the lifetime of your Firstborn, unfathomable for you, yet only a fraction of time for me – that I came upon the seed of your Mother, the Pale Tree. I was talking to my heard, the trees, your Friends, wondering why they were vacating a great area of our beloved home. 'Tis not our place to be,' they had told me, and for the first time since I set eyes on this world, I could not understand my heard._

_It was when I was walking this great, now vacated, area that I came upon your Mother. She fell from the great starlit sky – for the sky was unusually bright that night – with a flash of light that shone as bright as the life-giving Sun for seconds. I did not fear her, nor did your Friends, for even if we didn't know what she was, we could sense the light of Ilúvatar within her. She landed as soft as a feather in front of me, and I was surprised to see a seed not larger than the smallest acorn. And I planted her within the clearing my heard had vacated, for I knew that was why they had left._

_Not three days after the night she fell from the sky, did she peek out of the dark soil that I planted her in. A week after that she looked like any other sapling, and another week after that she was twice as tall. With each day, and each year, she grew taller and taller, not caring that she soon was the tallest of the trees of our home. It was only after one-hundred-and-twelve of the dear elves' years that she stopped growing, and at that time she towered all your Friends like a small mountain. We named her the Pale Tree because of soft glow during the night, which lights up your Grove even now._"

Ceres had been completely engrossed in the story, as she sat in soft grass front of the small crowd of Sylvari, looking with wide eyes at the old Earth Shaker. Not in her wildest dreams would she had thought that they were children – or grandchildren – of the stars of above. But as much as it explained some things, it opened up for a myriad of others questions.

"_Another forty of the elves' years went and passed, with the Pale Tree standing ever vigil, towering over its siblings,_" Fangorn continued. "_We Ents had thought we had learned what was to learn of your Mother, when fruits sprouted high in her boughs. For the first time in memory I returned to the same part of the forest several days in a row. I knew that something incredible would happen when the Pale Trees fruit finally was mature, though I did not. We Ents speculated a lot, but even with all our speculation we were not prepared for when your Mother lowered her branches and gently placed her fruits on the ground. Even more bewilded we were, when the golden fruit opened and out walked Aife of the Firstborn, the first of the Sylvari – though we didn't know that yet._

_The Pale Tree placed twelve fruits on the ground that day, three of each of your cycles – Dawn, Noon, Dusk, and Night. As we came to the next morning there was twelve of your race. Of the Cycle of Dawn, who has proven themselves to have the gift of the silver-tongue, were Aife, Dagonet, and Erisdar. Of the Cycle of Noon, who has proven their strength of arms, were Niamh, Riannoc, and Kirtan. Of the Cycle of Dusk, who has proven their worth in knowledge and rationality, were Kahedins, Faolain and Trahearne. And finally, of the Cycle of Night, who prefers solitude and secrets, were Malomedies, Caithe, and Röna._

_You were an enigma to us; elf-like in form, but plantlike in nature. As newly emerged, we would think that you would be as the elflings, but no… You had language and you were aware. Though the tongue you spoke was both the words of man and elf, you not knew the differences between the two languages. So we taught you, as the elves taught us oh-so long ago._

_Learning from us, and the Pale Tree itself, you quickly discovered the joy of life, and for the first time in ages, laughter and words of the Children of Ilúvatar filled the air. You were not idle – though you were of the slow trees, you were just as speedy as the other Children of Ilúvatar. You took it upon yourself to explore our home, the forest, though you did not dare to venture over its borders. But as you were, you needed a home like any elf and man, and you did not have one here. Kahedins of the Firstborn took it upon himself as the first to learn from the Ents the shaping of nature, and with him leading, soon the others of the Firstborn joined in and created what we're sitting in; The Grove._

_Seasons came and passed once again, but when the Friends of the forest bore fruit, the Pale Tree did not – Nor did it the year after, or the year after that. It was only after seven of the elves years that the forms of the golden fruits – which you had dubbed pods – appeared in the boughs of your Mother once again. And in much great quantity; whereas your Firstborn were only twelve, your Secondborn twenty-four. In the years after that the period between the fruits of your Mother grew shorter and shorter, and the quantity grew great and greater. Even now you can see an almost uncountable number of pods in her boughs, waiting on being lowered to the ground – even with you, new saplings, having emerged less than a week ago."_

Ceres saw Fangorn leaned back and looked over the ever-growing crowd of Sylvari, his eyes passing over each of their faces. She, too, let her eyes wander and watch the vast differences in appearance her race had. The Earth Shakers said they resembled these 'elves' – though she knew not if that was true, as none of their races had ever seen any of the other Children of Ilúvatar – with their fey cast to their tilted eyes and pointed ear tips, and their lean body structure. But they had not the 'flesh' elves and men shared with animals, nor did the Sylvari have hair. Instead they had hard wood for bone structure, foliage and petals for hair, bark and leaves as flesh. Instead of blood, the same golden sap which ran through the trees ran through their veins, and like any other plant pollen sprinkled off them as they moved.

They were neither like plants nor like men, elves, or men. They were something in-between.

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**Author's Note:** Tell me what you think; either by review or PM. It doesn't have to be positive; I _will_ listen if it's actual constructive critisme, but flames will be ignored.

Until Next Time :)


	2. Audience with the Pale Tree

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own any of the settings or people from Lord of the Rings. Neither do I own any of the settings from Guild Wars 2, neither do I own a better part of the people, only a few OC's.**

_**Wild Growth**_

**Author's Note:** Wow, thank you for the support to the story. I honestly hadn't expected to get any reviews with only a prologue up, but here I am with six lovely reviews. It's because of those reviews that I couldn't stop myself, and here is the first chapter a few days earlier than I had expected.

Now, this chapter will represent Ceres, the person this whole story will center around, her friends, and (I hope) explain some of the basics of the Sylvari home, The Grove. Next chapter Ceres should be journeying out into the world, and (I hope, once again) latest in chapter three should she arrive in Imladris.

**Chapter 1:** Audience with the Pale Tree

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A frown marred Ceres usually happy and easygoing face. It was a bit unnerving to see such a look on her… she wasn't made to frown. Ceres was made to be happy and smiling and laughing for that was what enhanced her already beautiful features.

She was taller than most of her race, but there still was a great few who was taller than her (mostly male, though). She had been graced with the skin color of light green, like the color of the leaves when they first blossom, some dark shades marking her back from her shoulders to her hips. She had emerged from her pod with few but large red foliage on her head, which grew backwards towards her neck, reaching the top of her shoulders. Because of the direction of her foliage her green tipped ears was visible for all who would look for them. Like the rest of her race, she didn't have any iris, but a deep black color around her pupil, which sat upon a light rose-colored eye pupil.

She was sitting on one of the topmost branches in a tall tree, which was located a few hundred feet outside of the Grove. She loved sitting in it as it had a view over the other trees (not counting the Pale Tree) – this was due to it growing on the top of a small hill, giving it just enough a boost in height. It wasn't because the view was much to brag about – trees, Friends, as far as the eye could see, all the way to the blurred horizon.

It was a tree that was familiar to Ceres; she had found it during her third year after emerging from her pod, and had grown fond of it. It had accepted Ceres hand of friendship and since then the female Sylvari could usually be found in it. It always comforted Ceres, though not in a manner a person would comfort: it was through the Dream that the Sylvari was able to communicate with all plant life, to varying degrees of success. Whereas the Sylvari and Ents – and Men and Elves – used words to talk to each other, the conversation between plants and Sylvari was much more an exchange of ranging emotions. But no matter how much concern and comfort Ceres' friend tried to send to her through the Dream, it couldn't help her now.

The world was growing darker, and the stars were dimming. Anyone who had eyes and ears – and who would look and listen – could see that. Even deep within their forest, where her race had been safe from the dangers of the outside world since they awoke was becoming dangerous. Creatures that earlier had shied away from the ancient forest now easily entered it. Of course, those creature were quickly struck down by the Warden – protectors of the Grove and Fangorn Forest, lead by firstborn Niamh. Still… it unnerved Ceres that the dark creatures even _dared_ set foot in their home.

But why should it bother Ceres? Surely there were other more experienced Sylvari – like some members of the Warden, or the Firstborns – who should take care of it. But alas, most of her race didn't _want_ to care of it. Or rather, the forest had taken care and protected them, like the Sylvari took care and protected the forest, for as long as the Sylvari race had inhabited the place – Even the Earth Shakers had a hard time remembering back to the time where the forest wasn't a safe place – so most of the other Sylvari believed that they shouldn't do anything, for doing something would attract attention.

But Ceres knew better: They were attracting attention just by being _good_.

Ceres was one of the few Sylvari who had been called on a Wyld Hunt – a quest that called their very soul to action. She had first sensed her Wyld Hunt within the Dream, but it was only after she had emerged that she realized what she had to do; she had to leave Fangorn Forest and help whoever was out there fight the growing evil. _That_ was what set her Wyld Hunt apart from the few other Wyld Hunts: The other Sylvari who had received a Wyld Hunt had all been _inside_ their home, whether it be guard a certain part of the forest to build a new outpost, or help restore another part of the forest who had been attacked by fungus. But no one had ever been called to leave the safety (though that safety wasn't so sure lately) of their home.

That wasn't to say that she was the only one who wanted to leave Fangorn Forest – she was just the only one who was _called_ to do it. There was a growing portion of the Sylvari who wanted to know what was beyond the borders of the forest; their race had been curious from the moment they set foot out of their pod, but due to the darkness out of their forest, they hadn't dared to follow their curious urges. They had instead satisfied that urge within their forest, exploring it, building outposts and villages in the forest. But now that most of the forest had been explored… they wanted more. Still, it was 'hush, hush,' and not something you spoke of freely… Well, if you weren't Ceres, that is. She had seen the looks thrown her way, and she knew that she had to be the first – once she had left the forest, others would follow.

Ceres had wanted to leave some time ago, but the Firstborn and Mother had talked her out of it. Not because they didn't believe she should go – fulfilling ones Wyld Hunt was one of the most sacred for the Sylvari –, but because she was very young and inexperienced. She had grudgingly agreed, seeing that she wouldn't be able to help fight – for she was sure there would be fighting involved – with how she was. That was a few days after she emerged from her pod, a little under sixteen of the elves' years ago.

But she wasn't inexperienced anymore, and she had trained for over a decade to prepare herself. And thus, she had requested another audience with the Pale Tree, and any Firstborn who would be in the Grove at this time: it was time for her, and any Sylvari who would follow, to leave the waning safety of Fangorn Forest.

That was almost a week ago. But Ceres wasn't afraid that she would be ignored; that simply wasn't in the nature of the Sylvari. Mother just had some things to sort out… also, it took some energy from her to appear in her chamber and speak, so she had to make sure that it wasn't _just_ for one person.

"Ceres, are you up there?"

The Sylvari in question snapped out of her almost meditative state and glanced down towards the ground, many feet below. She couldn't help but smile – a much more flattering expression than a frown to her – when she saw who had called, and who was with him. Arlon and Pallem, first of the Sylvari to be 'born' as twins – emerging from the same pod – and the only other two than her who emerged during the Cycle of Dusk in their generations. They were her closest friends.

They were both Autumn Sylvari, compared to herself who was a Spring Sylvari, their skin resembling bark instead of leaves, and their hair being gnarled branches – Pallem had longer branches with a few leaves, whereas Arlon had more short spiky branches. And despite being twins, they were both surprisingly different, Arlon being the far more rash of them – it had many times been a joke between them, that Arlon should've been born a Noon Sylvari.

"Yeah, Pallem, I'm up here. Wait up and I will be down in a moment," Ceres answered, hearing laughter in return. She shook her head with a smile before she laid a hand on her Friend. She could sense that it was happy she wasn't gloomy anymore, which only caused her to let out a bell-like laughter. Having bid her friend goodbye, she quickly jumped from branch to branch, finally landing in front of the grinning twins.

"Hello," they said in unison in a singsong that Ceres knew all too well. She narrowed her eyes slightly at them and gave them a scrutinizing look.

"What have you done now?" They looked back at her with wide, all-too-innocent eyes.

"What do you mean?" Arlon asked innocently.

"Yeah, we have not done anything," Pallem continued, before they glanced at each other.

"But…" Arlon started but trailed off.

"Yeah…" Pallem said with an awkward smile. "If any of the Wardens ask where we are, erm, do not tell them yet." Ceres sighed while covering her face with her palm.

"I do not want to know, or how much fun it was," she said as she began walking towards the Grove. "But I will keep you secret… again." They quickly caught up with her, each throwing an arm around her shoulders – not an unusual way to see the three of them.

"I knew we could count on you!" Arlon exclaimed, only causing Ceres to laugh lightly. She could never say no to either of them. Seriously, they were her best friends and family. Sure, all Sylvari was related since they were all 'born' from the Pale Tree, but it was normal that they just saw each other as distant relatives. But Arlon and Pallem was like her brothers, in every sense of the way. She just couldn't help but love the two of them. It helped that they had been her biggest supporters when she talked about her Wyld Hunt and leaving Fangorn Forest.

"So what do you want?" Ceres finally asked as the borders of the Grove came into view.

"What? Can we not just come to see how our sister is?" Arlon asked in mock offence. Ceres turned around – their arms falling to their sides – and gave him a deadpanned look.

"No," she drawled. "No you cannot." They both pouted at her.

"That hurts," Arlon said.

"Right here." Pallem pointed to his chest, above where his heart was… if he had pointed at his left side. Ceres covered her eyes in embarrassment.

"Other side, Pallem."

Pallem dropped the pout for a moment; first he looked at Ceres, then down at his hand in front of chest. Sure enough, it was on the wrong side. Quickly he pointed to his heart on the right side, smiling sheepishly at Ceres for a moment, before he resumed his pout. Then Arlon slapped him in the back of his head, causing him to stumble forward with an indignant 'hey!'

"Well?" Ceres asked of them.

"Oh, yeah, Mother and the Firstborns want to see you in the Omphalos Chamber," Pallem answered while shooting glares at his twin, while rubbing the now sore back of his head.

"Ah," Ceres said as she faltered. She took a deep, calming breath. "Whom of the Firstborns?"

"You do not understand," it came from Arlon in a tone that made Ceres frown. "_All_ of the Firstborns and Mother is waiting for you – and only you." Ceres stopped straight away and turned to stare wide-eyed at him.

"_All_ of them? Even Caithe and Röna?" They both nodded affirmative. "It is really time, is it not?"

"I think so," Pallem soothed and laid a calming hand on her shoulder. "Know that I and Arlon will follow you, no matter if you get their consent or not."

"For sure," Arlon nodded.

"Thanks," the female Sylvari smiled. By now they were under the roots of Pale Tree, where all the homes of the Grove were built. No matter how many times Ceres saw their home, she would never tire of it; there truly wasn't anything that could compare – though, it wasn't as if she had a lot to compare it to.

The Pale Tree stood in the middle of the Grove, tall and proud, her roots reaching far and wide (a few miles above ground, and Mother had hinted that they reached the end of the forest underground), and as any mother she wanted to shelter her children. As soon as she had realized her children needed a home, she had begun shaping her lower trunk to their needs. In the end she had formed three levels, and a small chamber, for the Sylvari. The lowest level, too far down to reach much Sun, was where the Firstborn had their homes, for they could not bear that the younger generations be robbed of the Sun in the morning. That wasn't to say that it was dark on the lowest level; luminescent plants hung in different places, giving the whole district a soft glow in different colors. Because the Firstborns lived there and had their homes there, many other Sylvari, including the Secondborn and Thirdborn, also had their homes there.

The level above that was also filled with homes, though it was much lighter there, but a great amount of space on this level was also used to crafting – a placed called the Terrace. It was here that the weapons, clothes and armor of natural materials was made – for what else should they make it off? Finally on the top level – the level that had a passage to the outside world – were the training areas, cultural houses, and places suited for social gatherings. But it wasn't any of those three places that Ceres and her brothers were heading – they were heading for the Omphalos Chamber, which hung high above the level they were walking on, the only way to get there being a long winding staircase.

The Omphalos Chamber was the most sacred and revered place in the Grove, because that was the single place where you could speak with the Pale Tree. And not like how the Sylvari spoke with other plants – after all, the Mother Tree was anything but like the other trees. No, somehow the Pale Tree was able to manifest herself in an avatar form, translucent and glowing. But doing this took a great deal of energy, as said before, so it wasn't often she did it. But she had done it today… for Ceres… while all of her firstborn was there – well, the eleven that was still alive.

"We will wait here," Pallem told her as they reached the winding staircase. She shot him an unsure look, to which he gave her an encouraging smile. "You can do this, Ceres. Believe in yourself – I know I do."

"I, too," Arlon inclined his head. "And I know that a great many others do too. They are all waiting for you to make the move, and then they will follow." Ceres nodded, trying to gulp down the ball that had formed in her throat, because she dared not talk, less her voice failed her. And that wouldn't do moments before she had to talk what was basically the leadership of their race (though, they were much more like guides, than leaders). Leaving her brothers – who were both smiling encouragingly at her – behind, she walked up the winding staircase to the Omphalos Chamber, only pausing a moment outside the entrance as to steady herself. Still, it was some sight that met her when she entered.

As beautiful and all-loving as when Ceres had seen her fifteen years ago, Mother stood in front of her eleven eldest children, talking calmly with them. These Sylvari knew each other better than they knew any other; seven years they were all they had to each other. And it was visible that they still hadn't recovered from the death of their twelfth sibling, Riannoc. He had died in a forest fire during a thunder-storm, trying to save as many saplings as possible. He was the first Sylvari to have died, and it had torn a hole in the Dream that all Sylvari alive had felt, which had yet to heal even to this day – Ceres was grateful that it was seven years before she had emerged from her pod.

Ceres shook the melancholy thoughts from her mind and proceeded. The first to spot her was Kahedins, Luminary (a Firstborn who guides their fellow Sylvari according to their cycle) of the Cycle of Dusk, and Ceres first teacher. He smiled gently at her as the other ten Sylvari and Mother spotted her too.

"My Daughter," the Pale Tree spoke with love. "We have awaited you. Please, join our council."

"Thank you Mother," Ceres nodded, walking over to their semicircle. She felt quite a bit intimidated, standing in the presence of all the Firstborn and their Mother… beings who were all much older than herself.

"Ceres," Kahedins nodded to her.

"Kahedins," she nodded back.

"Ceres, we have gathered here on your request," the Pale Tree spoke, gesturing to the other Sylvari in the process. "Last time you were here was almost sixteen years ago, and we talked about the Wyld Hunt you have been called out on. Am I right in guessing that the subject today is of the same nature?"

"Yes Mother." Ceres took yet another calming breath, all eyes of the Firstborn being on her. "Last time I was here I also spoke of leaving Fangorn Forest. You spoke reason to me, and I realized as I was I would not be able to fulfill my Wyld Hunt. That is not the case anymore." She looked all of them square in the eye to relay that she was serious. "I will be leaving within the next week. And the reason I requested a council with all of you, was that I believe that we, as a race, should make us self known."

"That is madness," Faolain scoffed. Ceres always thought that she had been the most cynical and coldest of the Firstborn. "You should not be leaving in the first place, but we cannot stop you. But no one else should be allowed to leave; it will only bring danger to the Forest and the Grove!" By this point Faolain wasn't exactly calm. This was easily solved by Caithe lying a hand on her shoulder; Faolain's eyes snapped to her sister, and she took a deep breath.

"Faolain, you know we cannot dictate what the Sylvari shall do, only advice them," the gentle voice of Caithe sounded. Her eyes moved from her sister to Ceres. "With that said, I believe I speak for both myself, Malomedies and Röna when I say we should advice the Sylvari to say within the borders of our home. We all feel the darkness growing, but less we provoke it, it should not come after us."

"You speak for both of us, Caithe," Röna said to her Cycle-sister, while Malomedies nodded. Ceres inclined her head, acknowledging their opinion, even if she did not agree with it – to be honest; she had expected nothing else from those of four.

"What!? So we should just sit here and wait for the Shadow to consume all else? Is that really what it means to be Sylvari; to sit in our forest, while the rest of the world turns to ashes?" Ceres eyes snapped to another of the Firstborn; Kirtan of the Cycle of Noon.

"Peace Brother," Trahearne spoke calmly. He turned his eyes from the worked-up Noon Sylvari to the (relatively) young Sylvari. "Ceres, what you request is not a small favor. But I must admit that my body itches with anticipation of being able to explore the outside world. That lone, however, should not sway our decision."

"We stand at a crossroad," Aife spoke up as the first of the Dawn Sylvari, drawing the attention to her. She was the oldest and most diplomatic of all of the Pale Tree's children, and it was often she who was called upon to solve problems between Sylvari if all else had failed. Her eyes swept across all her younger siblings before speaking again. "What we chose to do today will forever shape our destiny. Either we stay hidden and close our borders, or we emerge from Fangorn Forest and take a stand against the growing Shadows with the other races of Arda." She paused, her eyes sweeping across the room again before settling on young Dusk Bloom. "Ceres, you have called us here. Why do you believe we should choose to fight?" Ceres didn't answer right away, but stopped to think – something any Dusk Sylvari with sense did. This seemed to please Aife.

"I…" Ceres started. "I cannot explain it fully; I do not know if it is instinct, nature or my Wyld Hunt telling it to me. But when I think about staying hidden, I feel like we are just giving up." She looked on the avatar of the Pale Tree for strength, and she received it in form of a smile. "Whether or not you chose to sent representatives of our race out of Fangorn Forest, I will leave. I cannot stand by and do nothing, when it is so obvious that the world is suffering and choking on the Shadow. Arlon and Pallem have vowed that they will not let me do it alone."

"What gives you the right to make that decision, when it could endanger us all?" It was Erisdar who asked the question. While the wording could be taken offensively, his tone of voice was that of curiosity: he did not mean ill will, but wanted to know what was going on in her head.

"My Wyld Hunt calls me to do it," Ceres answered without missing a beat. "All of you, especially you, Caithe and Trahearne, know how it is to be called by your very soul to do something. I cannot ignore the urge any longer… The only reason I have been able to live with it for these long years is because I have known I would leave one day."

"Are you sure you want to follow your Wyld Hunt?" Kirtan asked. "Some has cursed the Wyld Hunt after it took the life of Riannoc. If he had not followed its urgings, he would never have died during the storm, protecting the Four Ancient Ferns."

"But neither would he have rescued the dozens of Saplings," Dagonet pointed out. Ceres looked around on the Firstborn; they were rather split on whether or not to go. Some had already made a decision. Ceres took a deep breath and felt her courage grow; she would not give in.

"Some may call it a curse, a life like mine," she spoke up, again drawing the attention to her. "I have no choice but to follow my Wyld Hunt, less I want to live with unrest in my soul for the remainder of my days. But others call it a blessing; I _know_ what I have to do in life. I do not have to search, because the answer is inside of me. It can be a lonely life, and a potentially dangerous one, but a fulfilling one at that." Lifting her chin Ceres continued proudly. "Whether a Wyld Hunt be a curse or a blessing, it is my weight to bear, and I will bear it gladly and without complain." She looked them sternly in the eyes. "The Shadows are growing stronger in Arda, and someone has to take a stand against it. Why should it not be me?" Stunned, and slightly awed, silence filled the chamber – the Pale Tree smiling proudly at the young Sylvari. It was Aife who broke the silence by clearing her throat.

"Wiser words have not often been spoken, not even by the Earth Shakers," she said while inclining her head towards Ceres, shocking her slightly. "You do your Cycle Proud, dusk bloom."

"Indeed," Mother said for the first time since bidding Ceres welcome and opened the conversation. Faolain, who was most likely about to come with a catty remark, shut her mouth right away and turned her eyes to the Pale Tree. "Your words will be remembered for a long time, and will remain within the Dream till Shadows claim it. But you will not be alone, and I am not talking about the dear, troublesome twins Arlon and Pallem." A few of the Firstborn chuckled at that statement, almost most certainly having experienced one of the many troubles caused by the two. "Many will follow your lead, no matter if we chose to advice them otherwise. My children, you have all been born with curiosity and the desire to explore in your heart – even you, my dear Faolain – but you quelled that desire because of my selfish request to keep you safe." She sighed - Ceres was awed that she could hear the large branches sigh with her – as she looked sadly at her children. "The time has come to leave the safety of our Home and join the world, as we were always meant to."

"Mother…" it came worriedly from Erisdar, but the Pale Tree simply smiled at him.

"I am fine, child." She turned to look at Ceres one last time. "Ceres, Wyld Hunt Valiant, I know not what the growing darkness in the world is… But the elves who taught dear Fangorn and the rest of his race to speak most certainly do. Seek them out, and fulfill the quest your soul has set you out on."

"I will, Mother," Ceres vowed. "I will make you proud."

The Pale Tree, already disappearing in front of their eyes, smiled lovingly at Ceres. "You already have my child. Stay true to your heart and the Dream, and you will continue to do so."

* * *

**Author's Note:** I can't promise when the next chapter will be up, but I hope it won't be too long. I'm currently trying to write a chapter for each of my stories and upload them at once, so chapter 2 of Wild Growth should go up with them.

If you have any questions or concerns, don't hesitate to review or PM me about it. It is only flames I will ignore.

Until Next Time :)


	3. The Journey

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of the settings or people from Lord of the Rings. Neither do I own any of the settings from Guild Wars 2, neither do I own a better part of the people, only a few OC's.**

**_Wild Growth_**

Author's Note: Thank you for the support for the story. I'm glad that people think that it's original… though, I have read more than a few '10th walker' story, and where a new race has been added (either fairy, or dragonling, or a hybrid race…) Nonetheless, I'm happy for your support, and I hope I'll be able to live up to your expectations.

Now, onto a longish A/N that will explain further some details of the story and Sylvari. It's not needed to read, as you will find out into the story as it goes on, but it might make things less confusing if you do. Now, as you can see if you have looked, this is my first Lord of the Rings story, and, honestly, it's only recently that I've begun reading the LotR fanfiction section… and I haven't really read the books. I will try my best however, but please don't hesitate to correct me if I'm wrong about something.

Now, a few notes; I'm not sure if in canon that Fangorn Forest, or Entwood, actually encompasses the mountains it grows of the roots. In this story, however, it's going to be so, for the sake of an easier start. I hope you don't mind if that's actually not true – after all, small alterations are not completely uncommon within the fanfiction genre.

And about the language that the Sylvari are speaking; as mentioned in the prologue, when the first Sylvari emerged (the Firstborn) they knew the words of both man and elf tongues. That is Westron and the elven language of Quenya. They cannot speak Sindarin (or rather, they have not learned it yet). I will elaborate how that is; since the Pale Tree grew up in the presence of the Ents, it absorbed the language that they knew and whispered it to the Sylvari while they were still in the Dream of Dreams (though that is not all that is to it.) Since the elves taught the Ents to speak quite some time ago, I assume that it was with the Quenya tongue, and thus why the Sylvari can speak that and not the newer Sindarin. I don't know how the Ents – or Fangorn/Treebeard anyhow – can speak Wreston, but since he can so can the Sylvari.

I know that some stories on can actually find what the sentences would be in Quenya and Sindarin. While I have tried to find websites that could translate, I have only been partially successful. I have gotten some sentences from the story 'The Only One' by '_CC. '_(great story, you should read it), and I have found some dictionaries. So while there will be some elvish (both Sandarin and Quenya), complex sentences will be written in plain old English with some special effect (_italics_ or **bold**) if there are some who doesn't understand the language. You should just accept that when Sylvari speak to each other it will be in Quenya (so the first chapters are completely in Quenya, and so will the first part of this chapter). I hope you can accept that – or better yet, help me with it.

I hope that clears up a few things. Now; onto the story.

_Quenya will be written in italics_

**Sindarin will be written in bold**

**Chapter 2:** The Journey

* * *

Ceres sighed as she stood at the edge of Fangorn Forest, looking over the vast expanse of land which had a complete lack of trees. She knew from the whispers of her Friends, and the tales of the Earth Shakers, that long over the horizon was the sea, and over that again was Valinor, Home of the Valar. It all looked so… different – so exposed. So bare. A funny thought, really, when she could see and feel that it was full of life. In many ways it was like her home in Fangorn Forest, but in so many more ways it was different: it was a whole new world. It was these thoughts that hit her when she was moments from stepping outside the shade of the last tree.

She had never had such thoughts. Many times – too many times to count – had she gone to the edge forest and looked out over the landscape. While she had not known when she would go, she knew that she would go one day… possibly to never return again. But in the past when she had thought thoughts of that nature, the line always ended 'but that day is not today'. That ending statement didn't come today, because today was the day that she would leave Fangorn Forest. It was the most unusual feeling, to leave ones home behind – her hear ached at the thought. But her whole body was itching to go out into the world, and her soul was pulsating in anticipation at her setting out on her Wyld Hunt. Looking slightly behind her she saw the same look on Arlon's and Pallem's faces.

"_Where exactly are we going?"_ Arlon broke the silence.

"_Mother said that we should seek out the elves_," Ceres answered, looking back out over the land.

Pallem frowned. "_Did the Earth Shakers not tell that the elves lived in forests to the north east?"_

"_Aye, that is what they have told_," the female Sylvari agreed. "_But I have always been called to this side of the mountains, towards the north_."

"_Called to it_?" Pallem inquired, his brother mirroring the same confusion he felt. She simply smiled at them.

"_Yes, by my Wyld Hunt_." Her gaze returned to the foreign land. "_I have felt it all my life, but knew not what it was at first. Firstborn Trahearne explained it to me, having felt it himself._"

"_Ah… So there are elves on this side of the mountains, too?"_ the rash one of the two twins asked her. She nodded affirmatively.

"_I asked Fangorn if he knew where we could find them. He did not know their exact location, but knew they lived at the roots of the mountains to the north. I asked our Friends if they knew further where they were."_

Pallem chuckled. "_Only you, Ceres."_ She raised an eyebrow at him. "_I know no one else who can converse with the trees like that. The most I can do is talk about the weather and feelings. Nothing like locations or subjects the likes of that_."

"_Did they know where the elves are, then?"_ Arlon asked, showing the same smile his brother did.

"_They did_," Ceres answered carefully. "_Though their answer was rather cryptic… They said that_ _'__the pointy-eared speech-teachers dwelled where silver lay upon earth, water, and sky._'"

"_Ah_," it came from Pallem. Then after a few seconds pause, "_And where is that_?"

"_To the north would my guess be,_" Arlon replied wisely with a nod, to which Pallem gave him a deadpanned look that said 'you don't say?'

"_Come on_," Ceres said chuckled at their antics, as she finally stepped out of the shade… it was oddly anticlimactic. "_Let us journey forward_." The twins followed her without hesitation.

And thus, for the first time since their race had emerged, not one but three Sylvari left the canopies of their home. As they walked in the foreign landscape, they didn't speak much. Not because there was nothing to say – quite the opposite; there were so many new impressions – the softer earth, the harsher sun, the stronger winds – that none of the three knew where to start or end. So as they walked in half-fast pace north, alongside the mountains, they simply looked at all the new while giving each other disbelieving looks. It was such that the first day went for Ceres, Arlon and Pallem, that when nightfall finally arrived and the stars lit up the night sky, the three Sylvari could do nothing but lie down on the soft soil and feel awe.

It was at that moment that moment, when the female Wyld Hunt Valiant could hear the soft breaths of her brothers, that the last of Ceres doubt washed away; the land outside of their home was worth (possibly) giving up her life for. They had only just set foot on the lands that was not their home, had only seen a mere fraction of what was, and yet, if the rest of Arda held even a fraction of the beauty and life that this landscape did… Yes, Ceres was content that if she had to give up her life to fight the Shadow, then she would.

With that conclusion, it was renewed vigor that Ceres woke up the following morning (having woken for the first time in her life by the sun shining in her face!), much to the confusion to Arlon and Pallem. But when they had asked her why, she had simply smiled at them and continued their journey. She would not – or rather, something told her that she should not – tell them of her personal revelation. One; they would simply freak out on her that she was even thinking of considering to give up her life, and Two; it would possibly sway their decision. She could not and should not in any way influence their decision of this; they had to reach it themselves, no matter if their answer would be different than hers.

In the following weeks the three Sylvari's awe did not lessen, though whereas the first three days they had been unable to truly hold a conversation, they now pointed out each and every new thing. And many new things they did see as they walked at day as well as night. They either slept at the few hours before dawn, or slept every second night to rest their bodies. At first it had been different to travel at night, but not because it was dark; many parts of Fangorn Forest was as dark as a moonless night, and the Sylvari themselves emitted soft glows themselves from their patches of luminescence cells. No, it was because of the difference in the terrain. But they were quick learners, as all who travel should be, and after the second night of stumbling around – and sadly freighting a few animals in the process – they walked much quieter.

But the delays to the Silver City – Arlon had given it that name, since none of them knew the name of the location – did not stop there. Numerous times their journey was delayed either because they stopped or because they took a different, and longer, route. And all because of curiosity – a curiosity they could not help. It was a feeling that their race had buried deep within themselves so they not leave the safety of the forest, but now it was bursting forward within Ceres, Arlon, and Pallem with a vengeance – and Ceres was sure it would resurface in the other Sylvari who left the forest, too. She actually doubted that any sentient being could not stop and observe some of the things that were out here; the landscape changed each day, and the trees with it. The few trees they had spoken to had been so surprised, and, yes, almost childlike compared to the ancient trees of Fangorn Forest.

Yet, the most amazing and unbelievable thing that Ceres, Arlon, and Pallem saw – which delayed them three days more – was stone which was shaped. The stones vaguely resembled the homes that the Sylvari lived in, just a lot more closed, and not as natural. The Sylvari grew their homes, shaped the woods and nature to give a sense of privacy. This had used stone shaped by some unknown tool to close off space. The three Sylvari were both intrigued (as any Dusk Bloom would be when they stumbled upon a mystery) and rather unnerved by it.

The Female Dusk Bloom had no idea how long time they had travelled. It was a long time – weeks to be sure – but never before had she, or Arlon and Pallem, had the need to measure time. In fact, it was rare than any Sylvari needed to care for how long time something was, or when it would take place. The Wardens were some of the few Sylvari who cared, and the Sylvari who lived in the southern villages (which were the ones who was more and more frequently attacked) also had some sense of time. But the rest of the race, who lived deep within Fangorn Forest and the serenity of the Grove, lived in blissful ignorance of the passing of time.

It was because of this detachment from the passing of time, that when a great forest began appearing to the north, near the horizon, laughter escaped the Sylvari. It felt like ages since they had set eyes upon trees that stood within ten feet of each other… and as much as they all enjoyed finally satisfying their curiosity, home would always be in the forest. It was true that it wasn't Fangorn Forest – already from where they were, leagues away from the forest, it was clear that it was much younger – it was still a forest. They all yearned to sleep beneath the canopies, perhaps even in the canopies, of a forest once again, but that would have to wait to the following night. Their small company had already forgone sleep for three days and two nights, and with them walking, running, and laughing as much as they did, it would not be good for them to forgo sleep a third night in a row. And thus they a pleasant spot beneath the silver moon to rest, so close to the forest that it's sounds and smell lulled them to sleep.

The next day laughter escaped the lips of the three Sylvari, as they ran the last hundred feet into the forest. Ceres felt the utter joy through her connection to the Dream, not only from her brothers, but from the trees as well. She looked glee as the Friends – because these trees were as aware and sentient as those in Fangorn Forest – creaked and groaned in joy, and welcomed the Sylvari into their home. Yes, Ceres liked the adventure of the new lands, but she only truly felt at home in a forest.

* * *

"-**know we should not wish to have any trouble on our patrols, but they are beginning to grow tiresome. Especially now that we have to run so many of them, with Ada's /**_**Father's**_**/ guests arriving**_," _Elladan sighed._ "_**I know it is important, but still…"** Elrohir chuckled; it was so like his twin brother to be like this. In so many ways the two were alike, but on other subjects they were very different – and this was one of the subjects. Elrohir could take to do week's worth of patrols without anything happening (and thank the Valar that nothing _did_ happen), but, Elladan, not so much.

"**Take heart my brother**_,"_ Elrohir chuckled from upon his steed, only few feet in front of his brother. "**It should not be so long again before the guests arrive in Imladris /**_**Rivendell**_**/, and then Ada /**_**Father**_**/ will trust others to patrols the roads our home."**

Elladan grimaced. _"_**I wish for that time to come to us sooner rather than later.**"Their banter continued as such, as their small company of ten edhil /_**elves**_/. The patrol, like all the patrols of late, had been without any event to speak of – thus why Elladan was so restless. Normally he would burn some of the energy by hunting orcs, or pranking Imladris (with Elrohir's help, of course), but neither of the twins could do that. Their father, Lord Elrond, had asked them to take extra patrols until the time of his guests from all corners of Middle-Earth had arrived. And since their father rarely asked anything of them other than their normal responsibilities, they of course said yes. Though, it could be seen that Elladan very much was second guessing his decision, much to his twin's amusement.

It was therefore that the bored elf almost jumped in his saddle when he heard noises in the forest. "**Gwanûr-****nîn**_** /My brother**__/_," he had exclaimed. "**Listen**!"At first Elrohir thought his brother was messing with him – but then he also heard the noises. He raised his hand to halt their company.

"**Halt, warriors**!"Elrohir commanded, and the elves obeyed. They, too, now heard the noises. Both of the twins closed their eyes and focused in the disturbances of the forest. Elrohir was astonished that they hadn't heard it before; it was like a whole section of the forest was groaning and creaking, and behind that… "**Is that… laughter?**"

Elladan frowned. "**It is rare that any edhil stray so far from Imladris**."

"**Ná**_ /__**yes**__/,_" Elrohir agreed. "_We need to investigate._" He opened his eyes and faces the company. "**Seiodacil, you're in command until we return," said elf nodded, "Galthil and Oletar, you're with Dan and I. Let's go**_._" He jumped off of his horse and ran into the undergrowth, his twin and the two edhil he had ordered following him. Getting closer and closer, more noises could be heard; water splashing, someone speaking (though Elrohir couldn't make out the language yet), and, again, laughter. But that wasn't where his focus was at the moment; it was on the trees.

"**Ro**_,_" Elladan called on him, also looking at the trees. "**Have you ever seen the trees like this? They're so… awake. But who could've awoken so many of them at once?**" Normally elves – and especially wood elves – could communicate with the trees, but it took time and required physical contact. After communicating with a tree, it would normally be awake for some time before slumbering lightly. But here… every single tree was awake, groaning (it almost sounded like laughter to him). The trees were happy… but why?

"**We will find out in a minute**," Elrohir answered his twin – the stream the persons were at were coming closer. Elrohir had already half-concluded that it must be wood elves that were at the stream – after all, how else can so many of the trees be awake? But he was wrong- it wasn't wood elves. "**What**_-"_ he started saying, but could not finish it due to pure confusion and shock.

"_**Do my eyes deceive me, or are those walking plants? …Playing in the stream?**__"_ Elladan asked.

"**I see it, too, my lord**_,"_ Galthil answered. _"_**Though I have a hard time believing it.**_"_ Oletar mutely nodded in agreement, while Elrohir was at impasse what he should order his company to do; they had after all gotten orders from Elrond and Glorifindel to keep the roads safe from anyone but the guests there was to come (of course he meant 'kill any forces of Mordor). But these… humanoid plants were clearly not from Mordor – at least they didn't seem like it, with the laughing and the trees joy –, but he couldn't be sure about it. He took a closer look at them

They were clearly humanoid in nature, and sentient, but made up by leaves and branches. There were only three of them, one female and two male. While they had branches and leaves growing on them, they looked strangely a lot like elves. Even their movements were graceful like their own races.

The female were a refreshing spring-green, with deep red leaves growing as hair. She was tall – as tall as the two males –, and where the only one of the three to actually have pointed ears. One of the males were a far deeper green (identical in color to the other male), and had branches with a few faded orange leaves growing out his scalp. The last one looked an awful lot like the other male, but instead of long branches, he had short spikes growing.

All of them was wearing very little clothing – if you could call it that. Large and colorful leaves were covering their more sensitive parts –but only their sensitive parts. And with how well he knew his trees and biology, he had never seen leaves like that. If it wasn't because he could sense that the leaves were alive, he would've thought that they were artificial.

"_Ai! What are you doing?!"_ the female screeched in surprised as the branched one threw water at her. She laughed and turned as soon as she figured out what was happening. "_Arlon, please! Stop!"_

"**Is that not Quenya?"** Oletar whispered. "**I do not understand it, but it sounds an awfully lot like how the Mirkwood elves speak to each other.**"

"_Got you!_" the female laughed as she pummeled into the male who had thrown water on her – Arlon, Elrohir think he heard the female call him. The other male laughed at the other two. The now soaked female stood up and grinned at the only one dry.

"_Your turn, Pallem._" He stopped laughing immediately and took a step back. She took a step forward.

"_No, Ceres,"_ he told her and took another step back. That's when she set off, and a chase ensued all over the small clearing. All the while the one in the stream just sat there laughing. Finally the female, Ceres, managed to push the male plant-man in the river to. Then she jumped into the river too, and the three of them sat there laughing like they had no care in the world.

Elrohir couldn't help but smile at that. These creatures – people, he corrected himself – most certainly wasn't of Mordor. That place just couldn't He turned to look at his fellow elves, and he saw the same happy smile (or in Elladan's case, grin) that was on his own face, plastered on their faces.

"**You're right Oletar; it is Quenya**," Elrohir said, understanding the language perfectly after his father had taught it to them oh so long ago. That's when Elladan shifted his weight, and accidently broke a branch. It hardly made a noise to anyone but with elven hearing, yet the three… plant people heard it. All of their heads snapped up towards them, their laughter stopping right away. A second later they burst into action, jumping out of the stream and to the bank, where their previously unnoticed weapons laid. This surprised Elrohir a great deal – normally he (nor his twin) had any problems spotting weapons… the answer came to him, though, as soon as he saw the weapons.

The female had a long wooden staff – about four fifth of her height –, which looking quite simple but sturdy. The two males had bows and arrows, though unlike any bow Elrohir had ever seen before. And the arrows… their heads wasn't of steel, or stone, or any of the material you would normally use. It looked like… bone?

His focus was brought back to the presence, when both of Oletar and Galthil drew their bows as well – as was common procedure when someone else drew weapons. But he – nor Imladris – could afford this to go wrong; if this was a new species, there was bound to be more of them (wherever they came from). They couldn't afford to let this escalate, and in, in worst-case-scenario, evolve into a war, especially with the growing forces of Mordor.

"**Halt**," the calm of Elrond's twins ordered in a whisper, hoping they could stay hidden for a moment longer. However, these plant people's hearing proved to be up to par with their own elven hearing; whereas their eyes had been roaming the general direction of them before, as soon as Elrohir had whispered the order their eyes focus within few feet of them, the female tightening her grip on her staff, and the males drawing their arrows. He looked over at the three other elves to gauge their reactions; Elladan seemed – in a rare turn of events – to also realize how badly this could evolve and hadn't drawn his weapon more than having it in his hand. Oletar and Galthil, however, seemed very much on edge.

"**Oletar, Galthil, do **_**not**_** attack!"** Elladan hissed, trying to lower his voices even more than Elrohir had done. The plant people still heard him however, and they got tenser by the second. Something needed to be done.

"**Follow quietly and try not to be threatening. Do **_**not**_** attack unless they do so first or you're ordered to – and in any case, do not kill or maim. Aim to incapacitate, nothing more!**" Elrohir ordered, and a fraction of a second later walked out of the undergrowth.

* * *

The carefree and joyous atmosphere that had filled the clearing only moments earlier was replaced by a tense anticipation. Since the three Sylvari set out from Fangorn Forest they hadn't encountered any beings, other than rodents (whom Ceres couldn't recommend you let nimble on your fingers) and a stray deer. And here it was clear there were being_s_, watching and observing them. It wasn't just a wolf, like the ones in Fangorn Forest… Whoever, or whatever, was watching them was sentient – that much was clear from the less than a dozen words they had heard whispered.

Ceres, Arlon, and Pallem were scanning the few feet of forest they were sure the _others_ were hiding behind. That's when they – four beings – stepped out from the undergrowth, two of them with drawn bows, one of them with his hand on a very odd looking object (but the way the others were holding their bows, Ceres would bet that it was a weapon), and the last – who were walking slightly in front of the others – were holding his hands up in what would be a soothing gesture… you know, if the other three didn't have their hands on weapons. They stopped a few feet in front of them, speaking to each other in a language Ceres could not understand – though it had the same elegance that Quenya had, and which Westron lacked.

As they seemingly wasn't going to attack them outright, the Wyld Hunt Valiant took time looking them over. The beings were so much like the Sylvari, yet so different. They were just as fair as the fairest Sylvari, having smooth light skin, and very little hair from what she could see – the only hair being the long strands they had on their head. The two who had drawn bows had similar-looking shaped hair, both being very light (one having a shade darker than the other). The other two looked so much alike that Ceres had hard time telling them apart by using her eyes; they were both very dark-haired (a very sharp contrast to their companions), grey-eyed, and a great deal fairer than the two bow-wielders. All of them were clad in a material that Ceres had never seen; it looked hard (almost uncomfortably so), but still natural-ish, and reflected light. Over this they were clad in cloaks of another material Ceres hadn't seen (very soft looking, and waving in the wind), which were silver-grey.

And they had all pointed ears.

"_Elves!_" Ceres gasped as she finally realized what the beings were. She turned to Arlon and Pallem, who seemed to have just drawn the same conclusion. "_Arlon, Pallem, we made it!_"

* * *

**Author's Note:** And that is chapter two of Wild Growth. Hope you liked it!

Until Next Time :)

**Ada's – Father's**

**Ada – Father**

**Imladris – Rivendell**

**Edhil - Elves**

**Gwanûr-****nîn - My brother**

**Ná – Yes, It is so**


End file.
